I've Got Some Bad Ideas Involving Me and You
by liadela
Summary: Frustrated by her lack of progress in therapy, Kristina devises her own plan to get better. Set in October 2010 and includes mentions of Taylor, Ali, and "Candy." Multi-chapter. Michael/Kristina
1. Chapter 1

Walking through the park after her weekly session with Dr. Winters, Kristina wondered if there was a way to ask her mom to increase the sessions to two or even three times a week without her freaking out.

Kristina sighed, slumping into the seat of a swing set. _Nope, she'd definitely freak._ She grasped the chains of the swing and swayed absentmindedly as she looked around the park.

The park used to be her haven, a place to go when she felt she was about to suffocate under the weight of her problems. A quiet afternoon here always seemed to clear her head and make her feel better. But now, her eyes landing on a couple to her right, it was only making things worse. The couple held hands as they walked through the park, laughing about something she couldn't quite hear. They looked happy. Kristina quickly looked away when they stopped to kiss, upset that all the therapy over the last few months did nothing to stop the jealousy and frustration from building deep inside her.

Six months of affirmations, self-esteem exercises, and trust-building activities and she still couldn't even imagine letting someone hold her hand, let alone anything else. She was still right where she started. She couldn't remember when she began believing she would never get better, and she wasn't sure it even mattered anymore. All that mattered was that Taylor was amazing. He was considerate, patient, caring, and intelligent – everything she needed. And it still wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to stop her from flinching when he moved suddenly or tensing if he sat too close. And it certainly didn't stop her from nearly jumping out of her skin when she thought he was reaching for her hand during their study session.

Kristina couldn't stop herself from looking back at the couple, Dr. Winter's voice ringing in her ears as they walked out of sight.

_Be patient. I know it's probably the last thing you want to hear, but it's true. There's no reason to rush into anything; physical intimacy is only one part of a relationship. For now, focus on building emotional intimacy. Share your thoughts and feelings with someone. You may be surprised at how much it helps. _

She scoffed at the thought. Kristina didn't tell Dr. Winters, but she wasn't sharing her thoughts and feelings with anyone, especially not Taylor. She wasn't kidding herself, she knew he was aware of what happened between her and Kiefer. She told him bits and pieces herself in an attempt to counteract what she knew kids at school were saying behind her back. But even though he was always understanding, she just couldn't shake the fear that if she revealed any more, any of the dark, broken things she kept hidden inside, he wouldn't want anything to do with her. There was a big difference between knowing what happened and knowing who she was because of it. No, she needed to get better on her own. But, if the key to physical intimacy was to build emotional intimacy, she wasn't sure what to do. She wasn't really opening up to anyone these days.

Her Mom made her promise to come to her whenever she needed to talk but she couldn't, not about this. She knew she just blamed herself for what happened and that was the last thing Kristina wanted. It was also hard to ignore the impatient look she sometimes caught in her mother's eyes. She knew it wasn't intentional; she just desperately wanted her straight-A, college-bound daughter back on track. But it still hurt. She couldn't talk to Molly either, though she tried to help. Every so often she would drop off a new book on trauma and recovery from the public library and hint that she would be around if Kristina wanted to talk. As much as she loved Molly there was just so much she wouldn't understand, and probably shouldn't. Sam had been great after she got out of the hospital but she was so busy lately they hadn't really gotten a chance to talk. She had been tempted to call Michael but, as selfish as she could be, she knew he was dealing with his own problems and they weren't the kind you discuss with your little sister, even if she is your best friend.

When she stopped by the penthouse a few days ago, she overheard Jason and Sam talking about him. Apparently, Michael requested an escort again and Sam found him one, behind Jason's back. She didn't know what happened after that but, from the way Jason was talking about it, she could guess it didn't go well. And though she was sure Sam was only trying to help, even she could have told her it was a bad idea. She remembered what happened the night Ali tried to take Michael's shirt off at the country club.

That night she saw something in Michael that was becoming all too common since he was released from Pentonville. It was the same look she saw the day he fought Bryce at Madison and the night he attacked Warren Bauer. He was different. She did her best to ignore it, convincing herself that whatever it was, it could be fixed. Even when she started to doubt her own ability to get better, she still desperately, and maybe selfishly, clung to the belief for Michael. If he could be fixed, then so could she.

Before she left she heard Jason tell Sam that Michael didn't need an escort but someone he knew, someone who cared about him. He clearly thought Michael needed to slow down, not rush into anything. Kristina rolled her eyes. Jason would love Dr. Winters.

Kristina stretched her legs out in front of her, drawing patterns in the dirt beneath the swing with her foot, the grass having long since worn away. Though she agreed the whole escort thing was a bad idea, she could definitely understand. If Michael was anything like her, and she knew he was, he would hate being told to be patient. There was nothing more frustrating, especially for Michael who already felt like he had lost so much time. But, in one way, Jason might have had a point. Michael might have freaked out with Ali because he didn't know her and didn't trust her yet. Even though she still felt a little guilty for pushing Michael and Ali together, she wasn't ready to give up. But if that was the problem, it was one she couldn't solve. Michael didn't know any girls his own age ... _except her_.

She sat up straighter as realization hit her. _Maybe she could help Michael._ It wouldn't be that bad and the end result would be worth it. And she wouldn't have to worry about Michael hurting her, he would never hurt her. Then he would see that he could be close to a girl without freaking out, and maybe he'd be ready to give Ali a chance. She had to admit that it might help her, too. She wasn't afraid to open up to Michael and maybe creating intimacy with him would make things easier with Taylor.

She quickly dug her phone out of her purse, wanting to call him before she had a chance to change her mind.

"Hey, is everything ok?" he asked, answering the phone on the first ring.

Kristina smiled at her brother's concern. "Yeah, I'm just calling to see if you're interested in hanging out tonight. I could really use someone to talk to."

"Yeah, sure. Did something happen?"

"No, it's just … my Mom and Molly have been suffocating me. And it's obvious they don't understand so I feel really alone when I'm around them. And I don't feel that way with you," Kristina admitted quietly.

Michael paused. "You can come over now. Dante is staying with Lulu so it would just be us."

"Actually, I have something I need to do first but I'll be over in a couple of hours."

"Ok. I'll see you then."

"Bye."

"Bye."

She wouldn't tell Dr. Winters.


	2. Chapter 2

Kristina arrived at Dante's loft exactly two hours later, an outline detailing her plan for the evening neatly written on several 3x5 cards in her purse, each bulleted point studied as if she were getting ready for an important debate. She hugged Michael as soon as he opened the door, making it a point to linger a bit longer than usual.

If he noticed, she couldn't tell; he just held her until she pulled away, grabbed his hand and led them both to the sofa. She didn't realize how much she needed to talk to him until they sat down. There was no awkwardness with Michael, no worries about saying too much and no pressure to be someone she wasn't. He was easy to talk to and for the next couple of hours they talked about anything and everything.

They talked about Brenda Barrett and Kristina admitted that she used to dream about being someone like Brenda, a famous model who traveled the world and raised millions of dollars for charity. Sheepishly she explained how excited she was when Robin put her in contact with Brenda for a school project. Michael told her about Carly freaking out over Brenda's return. Of course she was, Brenda was the love of Dad's life. Even so, Michael explained that it didn't look like their dad and Brenda would get back together. But, if his mom had any say about it, he would be seeing Claire again.

Michael's eyes darkened as he recounted Claire's threat to send him back to Pentonville. Kristina tried her best to assure him that it would never happen; no one would let it happen. But she found herself trying to convince herself as much as comfort him. The fear of losing him again settled in her stomach, making her feel sick. She inched closer, wanting to be near him, and began running her hand up and down his back comfortingly. She hated seeing him like this and she couldn't stop herself from placing the blame where she knew it belonged. They argued about their father until it got too tense and they agreed to drop it.

Changing the subject, Kristina told him that, with Thanksgiving around the corner, she and Molly were starting to think about setting up her mom and Mac Scorpio again. "Maybe second time's a charm."

"Why do you do that?" he asked. "Push people together like that?"

She knew exactly why he was asking. "Because …" She looked at Michael and shrugged. "I don't like the idea of people I care about being lonely." She paused, thinking. "I guess … in a way, it's also selfish. I mean, of course I want my Mom to be happy, just like I want you to be happy. But sometimes I think if I can find someone for everyone else, maybe I'll be able to find someone for myself. Then I won't always be alone."

"Kristina …"

"I know, I know. But I can't stop thinking it. And I just get so angry at myself for letting Kiefer do this to me, change everything about me and -"

"Hey …" Michael said as grabbed her hand, "It wasn't your fault."

"I know it wasn't. I do. I just hate being scared and I'm scared I'm going to end up alone."

"You won't. You'll never be alone as long as I'm here. Remember when we were on our way to Mexico? You said you wouldn't be lonely as long as you had me. Nothing's changed, ok? Whatever you need, I'm here."

"I know."

Kristina put her hand on his thigh and leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on his cheek, dangerously close to his mouth. As she pulled back she could clearly see the confusion in eye but also something else, something she didn't recognize.

Michael cleared his throat and stood. "Um, you want something to drink?"

"No, thanks." Kristina stood and watched him retreat to the kitchen. "I really appreciate you spending time with me tonight. I don't know what I would have done in that house all by myself tonight."

Michael returned with a bottle of water, placing it on the coffee table. "Anytime."

She paused as she stood in front of him and smiled, hoping he couldn't tell how nervous she was.

"I love you, Michael," Kristina whispered.

"I love you, too."

Kristina's smile widened as she closed the remaining distance between them, wrapping her arms around his waist and waiting for him to do the same. He tensed, hesitating for a moment, seemingly surprised by her actions, before ducking his head down and hugging her back. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, readying herself for her next move. She waited until she could feel him shifting, about to pull away from her.

"Michael," she said softly, lifting her head to look at him as her hands came to rest on his hips, stopping him.

He looked at her curiously but stayed, waiting for her to continue.

She briefly thought about taking the opportunity to explain, just like she planned, but instead, she brought one hand up to his face and caressed his cheek. He watched her silently, his brow slightly furrowed but his expression unreadable. She felt his jaw clench against her palm and she could tell when his breathing changed, became more shallow. But he wasn't moving away. She held his gaze as she let her thumb brush his bottom lip gently, his lips parting instinctively. Her eyes fell to his lips and raised herself up, leaning into him for balance, their bodies flush against one another. She angled her head and used her hand to gently guide his face down to meet hers. His eyes closed as he moved toward her and she smiled to herself, letting her own eyes begin to close.

They were close enough for Kristina to feel his breath on her lips when Michael's eyes suddenly flew open and he jerked his head back, the force causing him to stumble out of her arms.

"No, Michael," she said, reaching for him. But he quickly took a step back, out of her reach, almost tripping in his attempt to get away from her. "What? What's wrong?"

He swallowed hard, his eyes desperately searching hers. "Kristina, what are you doing?"

"I …" She was suddenly at a loss. She closed her mouth, cleared her throat, and tried again. "I had an idea," she started to explain, shifting nervously under the intensity of his gaze, the edge to his voice leaving her scrambling, trying to remember what was supposed to be an eloquent, well thought out proposition. "I can help you, maybe both of us. I was talking to Dr. Winters and … I just want things to go back to normal, you know. Taylor is a really great guy and I know if you gave her a chance you'd really like Ali."

Michael tilted his head, clearly struggling to understand what she was saying.

"It's just … you're different. You have been since you came home." An annoyed look crossed his face so Kristina quickly added, "But that's okay because I'm different, too. Since Kiefer. We just need to … get used to being around people again and then things will go back to normal."

Michael looked down, rubbing his temple, "What are you saying?"

She groaned, frustrated with her inability to explain. "Jason was right. You need to be with someone you care about, and so do I, that's why it didn't work with that ... prostitute."

Michael's head shot up. "How do you know about that? Did Sam tell you?"

"No. I …" Kristina hesitated. "I overheard Jason and Sam talking about it," she admitted. "But that's not the point. The point is that Jason was right. You need someone you know and can trust. You love me. And I trust you completely. And if all it takes is finding someone you trust, well, we could be that for each other."

"But you're -"

"Not biologically," Kristina interrupted, anticipating what he was going to say.

Michael shook his head, incredulous. "Are you listening to yourself?"

"What? It's a good idea," Kristina said defensively.

"No, it's a stupid idea," he argued. "And what makes you think I'd even want to? With you?"

Kristina blinked, momentarily stunned but the flash of hurt she felt was quickly replaced by anger. "I don't know why you're acting like this. It's perfect. And I know you think I'm pretty. A babe, right?"

His eyes widened as she threw his words back at him and he took another step back, away from her. His face flushed red and he dropped his head quickly, turning from her. "I think you should leave," he said, his eyes glued to the floor.

"Michael -"

"Now."

Kristina could feel the familiar sensation of tears prickling the corners of her eyes so she pursed her lips together, trying to hold them back. "Okay."

He must have heard something in her voice because he quickly over at her, his shoulders slumping as he looked at her. "Krissy -"

"No! No, I'm leaving," she said, cutting him off as she walked past. "I'll be sure not to bother you with any more of my stupid ideas," she said, slamming the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

Three days and Kristina managed to avoid Michael at every turn. She went everywhere extra early or a little late. She avoided the park and Kelly's. And if she even thought she saw him walking down the hall at school, she turned the other way or ducked into an empty classroom.

She knew it was unfair. She had essentially blackmailed him, emotionally anyway, into going to Madison because she didn't want to face everyone alone. She ignored his discomfort and his reservations and convinced herself that it would be fine as long as they had each other.

Now they were both alone and it was all her fault.

_I can appreciate your desire to help your brother but I think professional help may be more beneficial. I would never speculate on the nature of Michael's experiences in prison but, if you are this worried about him, maybe you should suggest he see a counselor. _

The one good thing to come out of this – she was so upset Friday night she finally talked to her mom about therapy. She would now see Dr. Winters twice a week for the foreseeable future and all it cost her was one lecture on openness and transparency and a weekend of suspicious, concerned looks.

Well, that's not all it might have cost her.

_In the meantime, if Michael sets boundaries, it's important the people around him respect them. _

She spent all of that morning's session talking about Michael. She told Dr. Winters everything she knew about his fight with Bryce, what happened with Ali, the way he attacked Warren Bauer and how he treated her Friday night, leaving out as many details as possible. She was never good at hiding things and, as usual, Dr. Winters could see that her story didn't entirely add up. But she didn't push. She never pushed. She only suggested that Michael may need help she's not equipped to give, and that may be why he reacted so negatively.

Oh, and that she should respect his boundaries.

She sighed, dropping her head against the steering wheel. She had been sitting in her car for the last fifteen minutes, dreading going inside. She couldn't think at home, not with her Mom and Molly constantly asking if she was okay or if there was anything she wanted to talk about. She wasn't okay but what could she say? She tried to make out with her brother and now he might be mad at her. That she might have tried to use her brother to make herself feel better under the guise of helping him. That she was being impulsive and selfish when she ignored his feelings again, convinced she knew best for both of them, and invaded the boundaries she knew he had set.

She lifted her head and leaned back into the seat. It wasn't all true though. She really did want to help him. She knew firsthand how lonely the future looked when you couldn't imagine letting someone get close to you. She really did think it would be a good way to help them both. Part of her wanted to apologize for taking advantage of the situation, but she was too afraid to even look at him, much less talk to him.

He didn't chase after her when she ran out of Dante's loft but by the time she got home, he had called and left her a message she ignored. First thing the next morning he called again. Then texted. And called again. And it pretty much went that way for the rest of the weekend.

He probably thought she was mad at him with the way she stormed out of the loft and was now avoiding him and frankly, even after her conversation with Dr. Winters, she was kind of mad at him. He never gave her a chance, didn't even think about about her plan and then kicked her out.

If she was honest though, she would have to admit that anger was far from reason she was avoiding him. She was hurt, and really embarrassed. She had been trying to ignore it, but they stayed, the nagging thoughts in the back of her head.

She slowly got out of the car and walked to the door, bracing herself for the questions her mom would have for her today. She hated lying so she had been telling a lot of half-truths lately and it was getting tiring. She reached into her bag and pulled out her keys, unlocking the door and pushing it open with every intention of heading straight to her room with only the bare minimum of niceties when she saw him sitting on the sofa, an unexpected barrier to the safety of her room.

Michael.

She stayed frozen in the doorway, her mind racing for ways to get out of this, not ready to face him yet.

He stood and took several tentative steps toward her. "Hey."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, closing the front door behind her.

"You're avoiding me." He didn't sound accusatory, but her guard went up just the same. As if he didn't know why.

She shrugged. "I didn't think you'd care." She walked past him and dropped her backpack and purse on the edge of the sofa where he'd been sitting. "You were pretty eager to get rid of me Friday."

"Kristina -"

"Where are my Mom and Molly?" she asked, focusing her attention on unpacking her bag. She hoped he would take the hint. She didn't want to be difficult, she just didn't want to talk to him. Not yet.

"Uh - I don't know. They weren't here when I got." He paused. "Kristina -"

"Look," she interrupted again, turning her head to look at him, "if you're here to tell me how stupid I am, don't bother. I remember." It was a last ditch effort and she knew it. Maybe if he thought she was still really angry he would leave, give her some space until she calmed down.

He hesitated, studying her.

She turned away but she could still feel his eyes on her, trying to read her, figure out what was going on.

"I never said you were stupid."

"Right," she said quietly, still digging through her bag.

"I'm here to apologize for the way I reacted. I'm sorry ... it was just …"

She straightened up and faced him.

"… weird. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," she said coolly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Michael sighed. "Kristina … I don't want to fight with you."

"I'm not fighting … I'm not the one who's mad."

"Are you sure about that?" He was starting to sound a little frustrated.

"I'm not," she said, ignoring how unconvincing it sounded to even her own ears. "You're mad at me."

"No, I'm not. And I'm not the one avoiding you."

She opened her mouth to argue but quickly closed it. "I know," she said, suddenly deflated. He was right and, as embarrassed as she may have been, she missed him. She sank down to sit on the sofa, no longer wanting to avoid him or push him away. She looked up at Michael. "I should be the one apologizing."

"You don't have to -"

"No, I do. I'm sorry for … I just wanted to help -"

"I know," he said earnestly.

"But I should have respected your boundaries."

He nodded at her.

"I really didn't mean to freak you out. I didn't think that …"

"What?"

"Kissing me would be such a big deal," she admitted.

He looked at her, confused.

"It's okay, Michael. I figured it out."

"Figured what out?" he asked, sitting down in the chair across from her.

"I know," she began slowly, "that the real reason my idea didn't work is because you didn't want to kiss me." She looked down at her hands, embarrassed that he now knew what was bothering her so much. She hated admitting her insecurities, she did enough of that in therapy.

"Wait. What? You think -"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does."

She glanced up to see that he was very serious. "Well, it was a good idea. Or it would have been if you were okay with …" she trailed off, not knowing how to say what she wanted to say. "Okay with me. But it's fine," she quickly added, "if it grosses you out or whatever -"

"What? No! That's not -"

"Seriously, Michael. It's fine."

He shook his head, disbelieving. "Kristina, you know that's not true. You _know_ it's not."

He said it with such a quiet intensity, it made her nervous.

"What do mean?" she asked quietly.

This time he looked away, his gaze falling to the floor. Michael rubbed his hands against his jeans nervously and stood up, taking a few steps away from her, still avoiding her eyes. When he turned back to look at her, she could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He looked worried. He finally opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the sound of laughing outside. A moment later, the door scraped open and her mom and Molly walked in.

"Michael," Molly acknowledged pleasantly. "What are you doing here?"

Her mom followed behind Molly, the smile leaving her face as she sized up the situation. "What going on? Do I want to know?" she asked, looking between the two of them.

"Mom," Kristina complained, standing.

"It's okay. I should go. Bye," he said, barely glancing at Molly or her mom as he passed them on his way out.

"What's wrong with Michael?" Molly asked as he closed the door behind him.

"I'll be right back," Kristina said, ignoring the question. She quickly followed after him, curiosity getting the best of her. "Michael, wait." she called out, closing the door behind her.

He was slow to turn around and face her.

She walked to the edge of the porch, approaching him carefully as she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering slightly against the cool air. "What were you about to say?"

He hesitated and looked past her. "It's not important."

She turned to look back over her shoulder. Her mom was standing near the window, pretending to set the table while she eyed them through the glass. Kristina groaned and stepped further from the door.

"No, really," Michael said. "It's not important. You should go back inside before Alexis starts to think something's wrong."

"I think we both know it's too late for that."

"Yeah, I guess so. Sorry if I made things worse."

"No, don't worry about it."

"I'll see you at school tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly.

He nodded his head slightly and waved at her mom as he turned to leave.

She watched him go, wondering what it was he didn't get a chance to say. It was going to drive her crazy. She walked back inside and her mom arched an eyebrow at her.

"Nothing's going on." Kristina looked around. "Where's Molly?"

"She went to put her things away."

Kristina nodded, picking up the plates to set out. She wondered what the chances were that her mom asked Molly to give them a minute. "So where were you guys?" she asked, trying to change the subject. When her mom didn't answer she looked up to see an unsatisfied look on her mother's face. Apparently the chances were high. She wasn't going to let this go. "Michael and I ... we kind of had a fight the other day and now … things are a little weird. That's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. It'll be fine," she said. And it would be fine. As soon as she found out what he was going to say.


	4. Chapter 4

"How did you do it?"

Kristina glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see Ali walking toward her, a big smile playing across her face. She quickly gave up trying to stuff her physics book in her backpack and zipped it closed instead, taking the book in her arms and slamming her locker shut as she turned to face her friend.

Ali's excitement was contagious and Kristina couldn't keep the smile off her face as she neared. "What?"

"Michael," Ali answered, looking at her expectantly.

Kristina shook her head slightly, genuinely confused.

Ali stopped, looking at Kristina curiously. "He asked me out," she explained.

Kristina blinked once, twice. "What?"

"Yeah!" Ali tilted her head slightly, clearly surprised. "You didn't know? He didn't tell you?"

"No." No, he didn't. "But you know, he's my brother," she added quickly, "he doesn't talk to me about everything, especially not when it comes to girls." She paused, trying to keep the smile from slipping off her face. "So what happened?"

"He was waiting for me after class this morning. I ..."

Kristina tried to focus but her mind was racing. Michael asked Ali out. It's exactly what she wanted in the first place, so she should be happy. But she wasn't. Why wasn't she?

"... and then he just asked me if I wanted to do something with him. He seemed …"

Everything was wrong. Of course he hadn't told her. Why would he? Michael spent the last week acting weird, skittish around her. She was trying to be normal and act like everything was fine, like she never had any stupid ideas in her head, but it didn't help. And she knew she only had herself to blame.

"... Friday. We'll probably just go to a movie or Kelly's but it's a start, right? Kristina?"

"Oh, yeah, that's great!" Kristina hoped she sounded excited, and not at all guilty even though that's exactly how she felt. Guilty for not listening and, more importantly, not being happy. Ali was a really good friend, one of the few that stuck around after everything that happened with Kiefer, and she deserved a better friend then she was getting right now.

"Yeah," Ali agreed, studying her. "Is everything okay with you?"

Kristina's heart sank at Ali's concern. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just a little tired," she lied. She shifted, switching her book from one arm to the other. "That's all."

Ali nodded. "Are you going to be okay getting home?"

"Yeah - "

"Hey guys!"

Both girls turned to see Taylor approaching.

"Taylor's actually giving me a ride home today," Kristina said, gesturing toward him as he walked up.

"Oh," Ali said, a knowingly, sly smile on her face. "Well, I should go. I'm late for practice. But I'll call you later. We have to talk about what I'm going to wear."

"Definitely," she said.

"Have fun guys," Ali said, winking at her as she turned away to walk toward the school gym.

"Bye, Ali." Taylor watched after Ali curiously. "Something going on?" he asked, turning back to Kristina.

"No, well, Michael and Ali are going out."

"Oh, congratulations!"

He seemed to be genuinely excited for her and Kristina sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'm too obvious."

"No, it's good. You care about people; you want them to be happy. It's a really nice thing about you."

She could feel the tell-tale butterflies in her stomach as he smiled down at her and she smiled back shyly. "Thanks."

His smile widened at her reaction and he leaned forward, reaching for her book and backpack. "Here, let me carry that for you," he said.

"Thanks," she said, letting him take them from her.

They turned to leave, walking down the hall and heading to the school parking lot. As they rounded the corner, Kristina saw Michael, rushing off in the opposite direction.

"So … I was wondering if - "

"Michael!" He stopped and slowly turned to face her. She turned to Taylor. "Oh, um, I'll just be minute." She hurried toward Michael.

"Hey, Kristina." He looked past her, nodding at Taylor over her head.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

It was hardly the time but that never stopped her before.

"Yeah, yeah I have a minute."

She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the nearest empty classroom. The door was still unlocked and she pushed him in ahead of her, making sure to close it behind, the click of the lock loud and echoing in the room. Kristina didn't bother to turn on the light. The fading afternoon sun, even with the trees outside causing shadows to fall over the desks and floor, left them plenty of light.

Michael walked further into the room, placing a row of desks between them. "So what's up?" he asked, turning to face her.

"Ali told me you asked her out." Kristina tried to sound neutral; she didn't want to start a fight or put him on the defensive. She just wanted to talk to him, really talk to him for the first time in almost two weeks.

"Yeah, this morning." He leaned back to rest against a desk, clearly expecting this conversation.

"What about your boundaries?" she asked.

"What?"

"I mean … I know how you felt before so … If you're only doing this because of what happened, you shouldn't."

He sighed, shaking his head. "I'm just giving her a chance. And that's what you wanted, isn't it? For me to give her a chance?"

"Yeah, but -"

"But what?" Michael stared at her intensely. "What's wrong?"

She hesitated. "You didn't tell me."

"Kristina, I don't have to tell you everything."

"I know that," she said, annoyed by his tone. "But this is different." She was frustrated that she had to explain why it was different when it obviously was and he already knew it. "I know that you're probably still mad at me, and you have every right to be, but - "

"I already told you, I'm not mad at you," he said quietly.

"But - " Kristina faltered. "But if you're not mad, what's this?" she asked, gesturing to the space between them.

"What's what?"

"This," she repeated, gesturing again. "All the weirdness."

"Nothing. It's nothing."

She shook her head. "It's not nothing."

"I know things have been a little weird lately but it has nothing to do with you." Michael stood and began moving toward the door. "Look, I have to go. I have to pick up Morgan. We'll talk about this later, okay?"

"What were you going to tell me, that day you came to see me?"

He froze, his hand already reaching for the door when he heard her voice. He dropped his hand and turned his head back slightly. "It wasn't important."

"I don't believe you. And I don't believe you when you say it's not about me, about what happened. There's something you're not telling me." He turned back to face her and she stepped closer to him, lowering her voice. "What I did … was it that bad?"

He hesitated in answering and Kristina looked away, feeling her eyes begin to burn with unshed tears. She wanted to fix things between them but she didn't know what to do if wouldn't let her. She crossed her arms over her chest and caught her lower lip between her teeth, trying her best to hold back the emotions threatening to spill out of her.

"Kristina …" He shifted on his feet, jamming his hands into his pockets. "Don't cry."

She knew from experience he hated to see her cry and any other day, he would have wrapped an arm around her, comforted her until she calmed down. But not now. The thought made her even more upset and she scoffed, raising her hand to wipe away the tears in her eyes. "Why not?"

"Because it's not you."

"Why do you keep saying that? You can tell me. Just tell me what I have to do to make things go back to the way they were before." She sniffled. "I miss you."

He shoulders dropped and she knew she won, he was going to tell her. She tried to steel herself for whatever he was going to say, including _things will never be the same and it's all your fault_.

"Kristina, when I woke up from the coma, it took a little while to get used to you being my sister." He moved away from the door, avoiding her eyes, as he continued. "You were this pretty girl who was always around and who cared about me and ... I got confused."

He glanced up at her nervously and she could see the fear and uncertainty in his eyes but she didn't trust her voice, not that she knew what to say anyway.

"When you ... tried to help, it just ... I panicked."

"I didn't know," she said finally.

"I know. It wasn't your fault. I appreciate what you were trying to do for me and I think maybe you were right – maybe we do need to try harder to be normal, just in normal ways. That's why I asked Ali out." He looked at her intensely. "I need you to know that ... I know you're my sister and that's the most important thing, more important then any ... feelings I thought I had."

She nodded.

"I really do need to go," he said, gesturing to the door. "And I think Taylor's waiting for you."

"Yeah, he is," she said, looking at the door, remembering for the first time that Taylor was still standing in the hall, waiting for her. She began to walk to the door, past Michael. She barely looked at him as she walked out, focusing on the words of an apology, already on the tip of her tongue because it was easier than thinking about Michael and everything he just said.


	5. Chapter 5

Guilt was hardly enough to get Kristina to stop avoiding Ali; in fact, avoidance was something she had gotten quite good at over the last couple of weeks. She had successfully avoided thinking about Michael and his date with Ali, which led to another one, and then another, and pretended that everything was okay.

She knew a lot about pretending that everything was okay when it wasn't; she did it for a long time with Kiefer.

And it was working. Things were almost like normal, better than normal really. Not only was it like nothing had ever happened, like she never made a pass at own brother and he never admitted to having feelings for her, but she got what she wanted two weeks ago - a chance at a normal senior year for both of them. She and Michael talked about problem sets and counted down the days to graduation and not about the lingering effects of prison or abuse. Michael was technically dating Ali and Kristina was spending more time with Taylor.

Two weeks ago she would have done anything for this life. But now, too much has happened and it all felt wrong. Of course, she liked spending time with Taylor, but she couldn't ignore the reason - she didn't have a lot of friends at Madison besides him and Ali. And she couldn't be around Ali. Not now. And Michael, she still wanted him to be happy, just not with Ali anymore.

She tried not to think too deeply about it and spent most days feeling like she was on autopilot. Go to school, find Taylor (_don't think about why)_, avoid Ali (_don't think about why_), see Michael (_don't think at all)_, go home. Add in classes she had to make A's in and she usually ended up exhausted by the time the final bell rang, like today.

The only positive was that it was Friday and she could hide out at home all weekend. It wouldn't be that bad if she could manage to avoid Molly's endless game of twenty questions.

Molly sensed something was wrong and she was determined to figure it out. Ever since she found out that Kiefer was the one abusing her, she's felt partly responsible for not being able to see it. Kristina's told her over and over again that it wasn't her fault; she didn't know because Kristina didn't want her to know. But Molly had already decided to go out of her way to make sure it would never happen again. Even though she knew Molly meant well, it was starting to get really annoying.

Kristina slammed her locker shut and turned toward the school parking lot, more than ready to go home, when she heard shouts coming from the courtyard. She glanced back as groups of students began running toward the double doors, the faint but familiar chant "_Fight! Fight! Fight!" _reaching her ears as they swung open and closed.

Her blood ran cold even before she saw Ali push through the students, her eyes looking around wildly before landing on Kristina.

"Kristina, come quick!"

Ali's voice, breathless and frantic shot straight to her heart and she knew even before Ali said it.

"It's Michael."

Kristina didn't hesitate. She dropped her book bag and ran down the hall to meet Ali. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Ali said as she led her around a corner. "I don't know."

She followed Ali blindly as words like expulsion, parole, and Pentonville bounced around her head, making her feel sick to her stomach. When she finally stumbled through the double doors leading to the courtyard, blinking against the bright glare of the sun, she couldn't see Michael. Her classmates had formed a tight circle around the fight, their catcalls and shouts almost loud enough to drown out her own thoughts. Almost.

Desperate, Kristina rushed up to the crowd and tried to push her way through, remembering the look in Michael's eyes the night he went after Warren Bauer. If Lucky and Ethan hadn't been there, she was sure Michael would have killed him.

Someone shifted in front of her and she felt herself pushed forward, breaking into the circle just in time to see Michael's fist connect with Bryce's jaw, the awful cracking sound echoing in her ears.

"Michael!"

Blood already ran down from Michael's nose and an ugly, purplish welt was beginning to show on his forehead. As Bryce staggered back, she saw he was bleeding too, his chin and shirt smeared red.

Bryce managed to recover and threw a punch that landed square on Michael's left cheek, catching him off balance. He fell and landed flat on his back with a loud grunt. Bryce began to advance and Kristina was afraid he was going to kick him, but Michael took the opportunity to knock his legs out from under him, sending Bryce tumbling to the ground.

Horrified by the scene playing out in front of her, Kristina stood frozen as Michael quickly scrambled to his knees and jumped on top of Bryce, pinning him with his weight. With the advantage, Michael yanked Bryce forward by the front of his shirt, and started swinging.

It wasn't long before Bryce stopped struggling and slumped back on to the concrete. Michael stayed kneeling over him, still holding him by his collar, as a hush fell over the crowd, leaving Michael's harsh breathing the only sound to be heard in the courtyard.

Not thinking, Kristina ran to him and put her hand on his shoulder. His head snapped back to look at her and she flinched at the anger in his eyes. She instinctively took a step back as he let go of Bryce and stood, his hands still curled into fists.

"Michael?" she asked tentatively, her voice cracking.

He didn't acknowledge her, his eyes still glued to Bryce lying unconscious on the ground.

She followed Michael's gaze down to Bryce, now nearly unrecognizable. Kristina forced herself to look away, afraid she would be sick if she kept staring, and focused on Michael instead.

He blinked several times, his eyes slowly losing their edge. Seemingly confused, he dropped his head and looked down at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists as he studied his knuckles, bruised and bloodied.

Kristina took a small step forward and tried again to get his attention. "Michael?"

He jerked his head up but he still didn't look at her, his eyes darting around, as if noticing the crowd surrounding them for the first time. A hoarse sound came from the back of his throat and, in that moment, he reminded her of a wounded, cornered animal.

"Michael," she said forcefully, fearing she wouldn't be able to get through to him this time. She raised her hand and laid it flat against his chest, willing him to look at her.

The shock began to wear off and the students still assembled around them began to shout, the words hitting Kristina's ears.

"Get a teacher!"

"Is he dead?"

"I told you - "

" - freak!"

She turned to glance back over her shoulder, feeling a surge of protectiveness. She was about to yell at them to back off, leave them alone, when she felt a heavy pressure against her hand. She turned back to Michael and he had his shoulders hunched so far forward Kristina was afraid she would have to try and hold him up.

"What is wrong with - "

" - expelled this time."

"Say hi to your boyfriend for me!"

Michael finally raised his eyes to hers and she was nearly overwhelmed by the emotion she saw there. Fear. Panic. Pain. The skin of his forehead began to crease in a way she remembers from when they were little, in a way that made her think he might start to cry.

Suddenly he pushed past her, the students separating to let him through easily, everyone trying to stay far out of his way.

Kristina turned, catching a quick glance of Ali's stunned face in the crowd, as she tried to catch Michael's arm and stop him. But he shrugged her off, practically running to the school parking lot. She started to chase after him but a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed her arm. She spun back around to see Taylor, concern evident in his eyes.

"Maybe you should let him go," he said, looking in the direction Michael went.

"What?" she asked. "He needs me. I can't just let him go."

"Maybe you should give him some space right now," Taylor argued. "It might not be safe - "

"Michael would never hurt me," she said defensively, pulling her arm free.

Taylor shook his head and thought for a second. "I could go with you," he offered. "Just to - "

"No, Taylor. I need to go alone." Kristina continued before he could say anything else. "Look, I can't talk about this now. I have to go."

She turned from him and ran to follow Michael, passing Mr. Buckley on her way. He looked upset but that was one thing she couldn't worry about now. By the time she made it to the parking lot, Michael was no where to be seen. She checked and saw that his car was gone. She quickly ran to her own; there was only one place he could be going.

Sure enough, she caught up with him outside Dante's building. She called out to him but, if he heard her, he didn't slow down.

"Michael, please," Kristina begged, following him up to the loft. He continued to ignore her but left the door open behind him. She closed it behind her, still trying to get him to listen. "It will be okay. Dante will -"

"Dante's in Ireland!" Michael stopped in the middle of the room and turned to face her. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, careful to avoid his bruised forehead. As he lowered his hand, he caught sight of the dried blood still on his fingers. He studied it for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, before letting his hand fall back to his side. "I don't want his help anyway."

"What? What do you mean you don't want his help?"

"Kristina, I know you want me to be normal but I'm not. I don't belong there." He looked at her desperately, his eyes begging her to understand. "I don't belong -"

Tears filled his eyes and a small, choked gasp escaped his throat. He raised his hand and pressed it against his mouth, trying to stifle the sound, trying to hold it in and regain his composure. He dropped his head, but Kristina could see his shoulders rising and falling rapidly with the effort. He sucked in a deep breath and held it, a last ditch attempt to calm down, but instead his breath exploded from his lungs with a loud sob. He turned away from her and covered his face with both hands.

Kristina was wrong. Michael did scare her. This scared her, not knowing what it was and not knowing what to do. She hated seeing him in so much pain, it pierced straight to her heart as if it were her own. "Michael," she whispered his name and reached out, trying to take him in her arms but he jerked away.

"Don't. I can't -"

"Shh, it's okay." She held out her hands in front of her, wanting so much to comfort him. "Please, Michael. I just want to hold you. Okay? And be here for you."

She reached out a hand to gently stroke his back. He flinched slightly but he didn't move away this time. She rubbed his back a few more times and then leaned closer, wrapped her arms around his waist and held him, her cheek pressed against his back.

He froze for the longest time but she held on, continuing to shush him and whisper nonsense comfort words to him. Soon she felt his chest start to heave from the effort of holding back. She felt him try to resist one final time and pull out of her arms, but he seemed to have lost most of his strength. Instead, he turned and wrapped his arms around her, buried his face in her hair and gave in to the tears.

Momentarily overwhelmed, Kristina had to fight the urge to run, to break free from his grasp and hide from the feelings pouring out of him. She tried to focus instead on the feel of the scratchy material of his blazer under her hand as she rubbed his back or the words he whispered hoarsely against her ear. She couldn't make out much but it seemed like he was fighting with himself more than trying to tell her something. The longer it went on, the tighter he held her, his hands at the small of her back pulling her closer.

She wasn't sure how much time passed, how long they stood together, just that she held on until he calmed down, until his breathing returned to normal and she couldn't feel his heart pounding wildly against her anymore. She pulled back slightly and peeked up at him through wet lashes, unable to keep from crying herself as she held him.

His eyes were red and watery. And his face looked worse than before. Large bruises covered his forehead and cheek, bluish-purple with tinges of an angry red showing through. There were also several long scratches down his skin and splotches of dried blood all over him. She knew some of it probably belonged to Bryce.

Briefly, she wondered if he would need to go to the hospital, also remembering the way he cradled his right hand on the way back to the loft. Part of her thought she should probably at least go to the kitchen and get a towel, or something frozen, and start trying to clean him up. But she quickly dismissed the idea, unwilling to be away from him yet. She thought he might feel the same way - his hands were still on her waist, holding on to her.

She looked into his eyes and saw something so vulnerable there it made her heart hurt. She wished for the days when they were little and every hurt could be made better with a kiss. Not that they had very many of those days. Most of their hurts were always too big for something so simple. Still, without any other ideas, Kristina carefully took his face in her hands, brushing away the remaining tears with her thumbs. She pulled him toward her, tiptoeing up to meet him, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

It's meant to be soothing but when she pulls back, their faces stay close, leaving a feeling she can't describe in her stomach.

Michael was the first to look away, dropping his gaze and pulling back awkwardly, no longer making eye contact. He took a step back, letting his hands fall from her waist as well.

"Are you okay?" It seemed like a stupid question, but Kristina didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Michael said unconvincingly. He rubbed the back of his neck and sat down on the sofa.

Kristina shook her head. "You don't look fine."

"No, I'm sorry – I just lost it for a minute."

From where Kristina stood, she could tell he was embarrassed.

"You don't have to be sorry." Kristina paused, looking down at him. "Michael, what can I do?"

He looked back up at her thoughtfully. "Stay a little while longer?"

Kristina nodded and sat next to him. She scooted close, her body pressed against his, and took his good hand in hers. "I'll stay as long as you want."


	6. Chapter 6

Kristina pushed the door open quietly, hoping she could sneak in without any questions. She should have been home at least two hours ago but Michael ended up falling asleep next to her, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. He was exhausted, and the last thing she wanted to do was wake him. Also, even with the bruises and cuts on his face, he looked peaceful lying next to her.

If she were honest though, she would have to admit that she wasn't quite ready to leave him either.

They could revoke his parole for the fight, and it scared her to death. She pushed the thought away as best she could as she tried to comfort him but, in the quiet of the loft, it was an unavoidable thing, impossible to ignore.

She replayed the afternoon over and over again in her head – the brutal blows, the fierce look on Michael's face, the anger in his eyes. And later, at the loft, seeing him break down, the feeling of helplessness as he sobbed in her arms.

Of course she didn't want him going back to Pentonville, but she's starting to understand that he can't go on like this. He doesn't talk to anyone at school, rarely smiles, and always wears the same distant, haunted look in his eyes. She just didn't know what to do, or how to help him.

Shaking her head clear, she paused, listening for footsteps or voices. She held her breath, straining to hear even the faintest sound, trying to figure out if anyone was home and, if so, where they were. Met with nothing but silence, she stepped through the doorway with slow, careful steps and paused again. Still nothing. She closed the door softly behind her and was about to start creeping toward her room when Molly suddenly poked her head around the corner.

"Kristina!" Molly cried, running up to her. "Where have you been? I was calling you! Were you with Michael? Is he okay?"

"Shh, shh, shh!" Kristina held her hands up, so distracted by her attempts to shush Molly that it took her a second to realize what she had just said. "What? How do you know about that?"

"Morgan told me," Molly explained. "Since Dante is out of town the school called Carly."

"What did he say?" she asked quickly. "Is Michael going to get expelled?"

"I don't know," Molly said, shaking her head.

Kristina sighed. At least he wasn't expelled yet. She was pretty sure Morgan would have mentioned that. The relief was short-lived, however, as she remembered that a decision, completely out of her control, would be made, if it hadn't been already. And that all she could do was wait. Her head fell forward, suddenly too heavy for her neck, and she walked past Molly to the sofa. She let herself fall back into the cushions and closed her eyes, an exhaustion that had nothing to do with sleep settling over her. She felt the cushions shift under her and she opened her eyes to find Molly perched next to her.

"What happened?" Molly asked.

"I'm not sure," Kristina answered honestly, shrugging slightly. "Michael didn't want to talk about it and I didn't want to push him."

"But he's okay, right?"

Kristina hesitated. "Physically, yeah, I think he'll be okay." Sadly, she realized that was all she was really sure of right now. Anxious to change the subject, she turned her head, peeking over the back of the sofa.

"Where's Mom?"

"She's not home yet. She called earlier to say she had to work late. And don't worry," Molly added, "I covered for you."

"Thanks, Molly." Kristina said, trying to muster a small smile for her sister.

She really was grateful, the last thing she needed was another lecture or, worse yet, to be grilled over what happened today. It's unavoidable, but she just didn't think she could handle it now. She knew her mother already questioned Michael's self-control, his confrontation with Warren Bauer still fresh in her mind. She brought up Michael's stability several times and wondered aloud, in front of Kristina, whether or not he would be too much of a distraction for her in her senior year.

"What about you?" Molly asked, pulling Kristina from her thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

It was obvious that Molly didn't buy it and Kristina sighed, waiting for the inevitable cross examination. But before she got a chance, a knock at the door surprised them both.

Molly whipped her head around at the sound and Kristina leaned forward to look past her.

"It's Taylor!"

Even though Molly was turned away, Kristina could hear the excited smile in her voice, an excitement that Kristina couldn't match. Reluctantly, she stood and walked to the door, pulling it open slowly.

"Taylor, what are you doing here?"

He held up her book bag, smiling. "I just wanted to return this."

She smiled back at him, awkwardly, reminded of how she threw it down earlier at school, and how desperate she was to get to Michael. "Thanks," she said, taking it from him

"Hi, Taylor!" Molly said, from somewhere behind her.

"Hey, Molly," he said, waving at her over Kristina's shoulder. "Um," he started, looking back at Kristina, "can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yeah," Kristina said, stepping aside to let him come in. She turned to Molly. "Molly, can you give us a minute?"

"Yeah, of course," she said. But she was slow to leave, eyeing Kristina suspiciously as she made her way to her room.

Kristina held up her hand, waiting until she heard Molly's door close before nodding at Taylor. "What's up?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

"I also came by because I was worried about you," he admitted.

"Taylor …"

"I know what you said. And Michael, he's been nothing but nice to me but …"

"But?"

Taylor shrugged. "Your brother is a little scary." Kristina frowned, and Taylor quickly started explaining himself. "I mean, I know he was defending you, and Bryce started it but -"

"Defending me?" Kristina asked, confused.

"Bryce was talking about you. I told him to knock it off," Taylor added, "but he didn't and then, out of nowhere, Michael was there."

Stunned, Kristina sat down. This happened because of her?

"They got into it and . . . well, you saw the rest." Taylor sat down next to her. "Kristina, it's just - after what you went through with Kiefer … and now with Michael..."

"Michael is nothing like Kiefer," she said, shaking her head vehemently. "You just don't know him. Yeah, he's going through something right now but … he's always been there for me. He would never hurt me, he's risked his life for me. He's sweet, and kind, and you would be lucky to have someone love you like he loves me."

Kristina snapped her mouth shut, her eyes wide. She looked at Taylor but he wouldn't look at her, his eyes darting around uncomfortably, and she felt her face flush.

"Okay. I'm sorry I said anything," Taylor said finally. "I guess I should go."

He stood, and Kristina didn't stop him, watching as let himself out. She shook her head. She needed to talk to Michael. Impulsively, she rushed to the door and yanked it open, nearly running into Alexis, keys in hand, about to come in.

"Going somewhere?"

"Oh, uh – no," Kristina said. "Taylor just dropped something off and I wanted to see if I could catch him … to tell him something."

"Okay … I almost believe that." Alexis looked back. "Well, he's already gone. Why don't you call him or, better yet, talk to him at school on Monday so we can get started on a late dinner?"

Kristina stepped back. "Sure."

"Good. Go get your sister."


End file.
